The Canvas Outpost

Wiggling under the door sweep got me away from the chilly garden air just in time. Right by the entryway baseboard, a heavy olive canvas messenger bag sat slumping against the coat rack. Its front compartment zipper was parted wide, revealing a gorgeously dim nylon cave. Naturally, I couldn't resist. I scrambled up the ridged strap and slid straight into the shadowy lining. Down at the bottom, my rubber foot bumped into a stray silver foil wrapper. I gave the crinkly metal paper a brisk, playful kick—*crackle-rustle!* The sudden muffled snap bounced inside the dark pouch. I flattened into the seam, grinning wide into the gloom. Hehehe... prime phantom quarters secured.